


Natural Disasters

by Rheaird_of_Life



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, this is kind of like an au bus scene, told from an outsiders perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheaird_of_Life/pseuds/Rheaird_of_Life
Summary: Eve and Villanelle have been a couple for awhile. One night they crash a college party and Villanelle gets wasted and does something really dumb. Chaos, in the form of Eve, ensues.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 24
Kudos: 96





	Natural Disasters

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my drafts for a couple of weeks so i figured i'd just finally post it

Despite appearances, and being on the football team and all around jock, he wasn't much of an extrovert. He hated parties. He only came to these things to fit in and bond with his teammates. He'd much rather stay home and snuggle with his cat Mitsy and a good book. Some would say he was too sensitive, and that hurt his feelings. He always tried to be a good guy, do the right thing. Make his mommy proud. Not be a total douche like a lot of his mates.

However, he wasn't perfect. He was a work in progress. So when some hot chicks start making out in front of him, he's going to watch. He's going to cheer them on with the rest of the lads. In that way at least they were the same.

They carry on for some time, getting increasingly handsy, and then all of a sudden this other lady shows up. A much older one who he thinks might be one of their moms. Even dressed like that she was a total MILF. A totally insane looking MILF. He wonders if she's some sort of religious homophobic zealot.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing, Villanelle?!”

The hot blonde pulls away from the brunette and stares at the incensed MILF in confusion. “Eve?”

Villanelle squints between Eve and the brunette several times and then a look of pure horror shoots across her features and she roughly pushes the brunette away, half falling over in the process. The rejected woman storms off in a huff.

Eve looms before Villanelle dangerously. “I repeat, what the fuck were you doing, Villanelle?!”

“It was an honest mistake!” exclaims Villanelle, backing away slowly, unsteadily. She looks absolutely petrified. “I swear! I thought she was you!”

Okay, so maybe she wasn't her mom. Were they about to witness a cat fight? Based on the meows of some of the guys around him, _they_ at least think so.

If he thought she looked insane before, he was mistaken. Eve looks absolutely feral now and proceeds to act just like Mitsy used to before he tamed her, claws and all.

“You have _got_ to be fucking with me! What about _her_ looked like _me_?! We look _nothing_ alike! She's not even _Asian_! If anything she looks like _Nadia_! Is _that_ who you'd rather be with?! Because that can be arranged!”

Villanelle does her best to protect her face and upper body from the furious blows, eventually stumbling into a wall, now trapped and completely at the mercy of the tornado in human form. He strongly contemplates intervening. He doesn't like to see people get hurt. Especially women. But none of the other lads are making a move, and he doesn't want to be the party pooper. Not again.

Like he said, a work in progress.

That's not to say the lads weren't doing _anything_ at all. They were in fact continuing the tasteless recording that they started a little while ago. One that has morphed into something entirely different, something incredibly violent. And yet, they love it all the same. Perhaps even more so.

“Dude, this bitch is craaaazy!”

“We're gonna go viral!”

“Who the hell are they?”

“I don't know man, but this party is lit!”

“You don't mean that!” manages Villanelle eventually, as the onslaught continues. “You don't want me dead!”

What the fuck. This Nadia person was dead? Did Eve kill her? Was she about to commit another murder? Should he be calling the cops?

“Don't tell me what I _want_ , Villanelle! How the fuck did you let this happen?! I'm literally the only one above thirty here! She was at _best_ twenty-three! You _can't_ be that drunk and clueless!”

“Don't blame me! It's _your_ fault!”

“ _What_?!” snaps Eve, abruptly stopping her physical assault. “How the _fuck_ is this _my_ fault?!”

He's immensely relieved to find that Villanelle appears to be relatively unharmed. More or less her hair is the only thing worse for wear. The lads around him seem less enthused by the lack of bloodshed.

“I was trying to keep up with you,” explains Villanelle haltingly, almost unintelligible now that the emotions have simmered down. “To make a point.” Here she stops for a few seconds, brow furrowed adorably as if trying to remember what that was. Finally, “You drink too much, Eve.”

“For fucks sake,” mutters Eve, rolling her eyes. “Not _this_ again.”

“Yes, _this_ again. We've had the same amount. And look what it did to me. Made me half blind and seeing double. Acting like a total idiot. You barely seem drunk.” Her eyes go watery, her lip trembles and his own throat burns a little in sympathy. “I worry that I'm the reason you drink so much.”

Infinitely sarcastically, “Gee, I wonder why your behaviour sometimes makes me want to drink a whole bottle of wine.”

“See that right there,” accuses Villanelle. “That deflection! You don't talk to me enough. About how you're feeling. Just drink.” Her she mimes a bottle. “Glug, glug, glug.”

Eve rubs her forehead like she's gotten a splitting headache, like she's just headbutted Villanelle, metaphorically speaking, although he wouldn't put it past her to literally do something like that. They were definitely passionate lovers, to put it mildly, and he was thoroughly captivated by the show.

“Maybe that's because you're _impossible_ sober. You never take _anything_ seriously.”

“I can change. Do better. I will. Promise.”

Even being sandwiched between Eve and the wall, Villanelle struggles to maintain her footing. She reaches for Eve, tries to pull her into a hug or a kiss or _something,_ but Eve denies her, pushes her away.

“You know what? I can't deal with this right now. Not after everything _else_ that happened today.”

Eve turns to leave, makes it a whole three steps away, and then Villanelle clumsily flings herself forward, grabs Eve round the waist, nearly bowls her over. Literally on her knees now, Villanelle begs for forgiveness, crying shamelessly.

“No, no, no, Eve, you can't leave me! I won't let you! You're mine! And I love you! And you love me! And I'm so so sorry I was so so stupid! I'll never drink again! I promise! Please stop trying to walk away from me! I need you! You're my baby! My sugar pie honey bunch!”

And then Villanelle begins to very badly sing the rest of the classic Motown song. The Four Tops would be rolling in their graves if they could hear this interpretation. It sounds a bit like Mitsy does when she's forced to take a bath.

“ _You know that I love you! I can't help myself! I love you and nobody else_!”

Incredibly, rather than cringe along with the rest of the hearing abled, Eve stops trying to get away from Villanelle and joins in, taking the next verse. Perhaps she's drunker than she appears? Or perhaps she simply can't resist doing karaoke?

“ _In and out my life,_ ” sings Eve marginally better, or at least considerably quieter.

Villanelle smiles like a buffoon and accompanies her. “ _In and out my life_!”  
“ _You come and you go (You come and you go!)_  
_Leaving just your picture behind (Ooh!)_  
_And I've kissed it a thousand times (Ooh!)_ ”

By the mid-way point of the song, they've cleared most of the people from the room, from the party really. He's far too curious to see how this plays out to give up now. So what if his ears need to bleed a little? He's bled far more on the field.

Regardless, he's extremely thankful when the torture stops. Which is mostly because Villanelle vomits everywhere, including on Eve's pants and in her shoes.

Eve doesn't seem overly upset, only vaguely annoyed. She finally turns around and kneels before Villanelle, helps her to her feet and over to the couch. Eve cleans up the sick from Villanelle's face first and then starts on her attire.

And for a few blessed moments, they are still and normal. Then it's like a record scratch with the next thing out of the drunk blondes mouth. Like she really just can't help herself.

“Haha, this reminds me of that time I poisoned you.”

What the fuck. Who were these bizarre, unhinged people?

“You didn't though, remember? Just pretended.”

Villanelle seems to think hard for a moment. “Oh, right. Sure. That's what I said, didn't I?”

Eve stops what she's doing and gets that insane look again, the one that started this whole thing. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You _actually_ poisoned me with arsenic?!”

Villanelle laughs, shrugs, and coyly says, “Maybe.”

Eve throws her hands up in defeat. “Fuck this. I'm done. _We're_ done.”

“No, no, no, Eve!” whines Villanelle again, lunging for her, this time missing and falling flat on her face.

Eve ignores her, and furiously makes her way for the door. She looks to him, and he flinches back slightly, wondering if she's about to hit _him_ next. He's a pretty big dude, but even he's a little fearful of her.

“Since you seem _so_ invested in our relationship, or lack there-of, you can _have_ her!”

“Ew, Eve, no! I don't want him! What is he, like _twelve_?”

Villanelle scrambles to her feet, sliding in her own sick in her haste, and chases after Eve. He had a funny feeling their relationship was very much like the song, like a pendulum, back and forth forever, never stopping, never resting, never boring.

The resounding silence that follows their departure is deafening. He looks around the room and realizes he was the only one brave enough to stay until the very end.

It's a badge of honour in his opinion. He just lived through a war zone.

He still hates parties though.


End file.
